Alright, so I touched on my new job a little on my previous blog, so I'm sure you all know about my current employment with Columbia Paint and Coatings. Anyway, earlier this week, my boss tells me he has an exciting project for me. Ever notice that the more excited your boss is about the project he gives you, the less excited you're going to be when you find out what it actually is he wants you to do? First of all, here's a little taste of what I had to do...check out the "required protection" I needed to wear to complete this task:

Sweet, huh? So anyway...here was my job...dump THESE cans of very smelly oil-based products

"Rainbow of Death"

into this 55 gallon drum

After two hours of this fun, I guarantee I had plenty of material for this blog. Most of it I have forgotten because I didn't have a pen and paper handy in my "office" (gross bucket). The one idea I DO remember is that I need to use that picture of me in the safety equipment to sign up for one of those online dating sites. It would go something............a-like this:

Hello ladies, are you looking for a dangerous man who lives life on the edge? Well, just take a look at what I wore to work today. I've been playing with oils all day long and I'm needing a partner who can handle my manly aroma. As you can see, I practice safety...so no problem there. If you are interested, I am dressed in rubber from head to toe and I am completely lubed up. Serious offers only, please.

Bap of the Day:

Today after work, I decided to go pick up some lunch. To protect the innocent, I will not say what establishment I went to, but it did involve southern fried poultry. I'm going to tell you right now that I was in the restaraunt for 30 damn minutes and all I did was stand in line and wait for food. I'm not going to say that the two fellas working up front were complete idiots, because that would be mean. But these two were a pair. Now, I'm not going to say that they resembled a pairing of the missing link and Igor, because that would be an ignorant thing for me to say. Labeling them Hairy and Gimpy wouldn't be the most sensitive thing to call them, so we'll just call them Timmy and Kurt. Timmy is one hairy little fella who's look can only be described as "Sasquachian". This dude is a fan of hair. He likes to display his love by sporting a ponytail down to the middle of his back, a line of 3 inch long hair that has been cultivated to span from the top of his chin to the top of his adam's apple and finally the crusty little mustache. Now, you would thing that a man with a love of hair like this would have an equal love of haircare products...but not our Timmy. This guy looks like he's been going on a shampoo strike that would make even Ghandi stand up and applaud. Kurt, on the other hand was clean shaven with hair that only reached the base of his neck. Kurt, however had a problem that is a little more difficult to solve that just simply buying a razor and some Herbal Essences. Kurt had a strong limp, which isn't something to poke fun at, so I won't. But seriously, this was a good limp. It's a limp that would make Quasimodo stand up and applaud. One person who wasn't applauding today, however was this patron of this particular establishment. When I showed up, there were probably 4 or 5 people ahead of me in line. After about 10 minutes there were about 3 or 4 people ahead of me. At this point, I was well aware of the efficiency (or lack thereof) of the Kurt and Timmy alliance so I started widdling down my order so I could give them a list of food that would minimize confusion as well as my waiting time. Finally, when I get to the front of the line, Hairball just looks at me. No hi, no welcome, no sorry about my offensive face, just a blank stare. So after an akward second I say "2 KFC Snackers to go, please." uh, I mean "2 southern fried poultry Snackers to go, please." And what was Grizzly Adams's response? "For here or to go". Wow. Um, yah.
So we end up getting that sitch' figured out and now I'm playing the waiting game. My order number is 342. So I wait, and wait, and wait a little more while they both limp around greasin up the restaurant, and I hear 340, then 341, then 343, then 344. AAAAH CRIPES! FIIIINALLY I see my snackers come out of the hands of the cook. Now, I'm not gonna say that he was Mexican, because that would just be a terrible sterotype, but this this fella had a real good base tan and decided to take 20 freakin minutes to cook two damn chicken sangwiches. So, Bap of the Day goes to the Colonel....I mean, the proprietor of this southern fried poultry establishment.

More to Come.

Alright, I'm going to make a little confession. I wasn't going to say anything, because I didn't think anybody would care. But then I realized...that's why you read, because you care. You are who I write for and you are who keeps me motivated to write more. So here goes...

When I am in the car...alone...I like to sing every now and then. Actually, I like to sing all the time. Alright, I like to belt a few tunes whenever I get the chance. The problem with this is that people are all around to see me do it. I don't know about you, but I chuckle to myself when I see an idiot in the next car singin his heart out. I tried many different techniques to get over this problem. First, I tried to only sing when no cars are around, but that limited my singing time, so it was back to the drawing board. Next, I tried many inconspicuous singing styles that can only be described as a mix between humming and ventriloquism. That worked for a while, but recently I've felt like I need to step my game up a little and figure out the perfect way to sing amidst traffic. Today I found the perfect tool. I thought, how can people act like they're singing or talking to themselves in the car, but have people think it is completely normal? Then it hit me...the cell phone!!!! If I hold that thing up to my ear while I'm singing I am actually fitting in. Now I am not the idiot singing, I am the a-hole talking on the phone while he's driving. But that brings me down to the status quo of Bozeman drivers, so I think I'm much more comfortable with that option.

That's all for today, folks. Should I bap it up? Why not.

Bap of the day: I've been working at Columbia Paint for just over a month now, and one customer totally stands out as being the most bappable. This middle aged lady walks into the store and says she needs a quart of paint made for the window trim in her dining room. Let me repeat that. She needs ONE single color made to paint around ONE window in ONE room in her house. When she gets to the counter she sets down her Gucci bag (oh great) and plops down a suede vest. Why a vest? Because she wanted us to match ONE quart of paint to the color of her suede vest. Not the dark color of the vest, but the light color that appears when you rub the suede in the wrong direction. Cripes! This lady was rubbing me in the wrong direction. I'm waiting for her to come in next week so we can match a quart of eggshell for her favorite shelf with the color of her chihuahua's nipple. Not the top one, the one on the left, second from the bottom. CRIPES!

More to Come.

These days, everyone is trying to create a new label for themselves that is politically correct. Little Person, African American, Penile-ly Challenged, etc. When you have no idea what it feels like to be a part of these groups, like myself, it's hard to imagine why people want to be referred to in a politically correct mannor. One specific group, however, has weatherd the "P.C." storm. CowBOYS and CowGIRLS haven't put up a fuss about their very gender-specific labels. Sure, it could be that nobody really wants to be called a COWperson, a BOVINEbeing or a HEIFERsapien, and it could be that Western American is way too broad to narrow it down to our Rodeo happy friends. I think there is another reason, though. I think that cowboys and cowgirls haven't caught the P.C. wave because they simply aren't over-sensitive a-holes. They have lived their lives with the mentality of work ethic, getting back in the saddle, thank god I'm a country boy, save a horse ride a cowboy, how do you like me now, friends in low places, don't tell my heart, boot scootin boogie, etc. In other words, they just have way too much crap to fill their brains to think about the politically correct movement. What cowboys and cowgirls don't need? Over-sensitive members in the group, destroying the status quo and confusing the rest of the country with new complicated names that "acurately describle the group as a whole".

This message is paid for by the Citizens Against Gay Cowboy Sequels.


Bap of the Day goes to anyone who leaves a comment telling me how horrible I am because the movie "really was amazing". Yah, I get it. If Heath can take a Gillenhall, you should be able to take a joke.

More to Come

Folks, I am coming off one kick-butt week in Seattle to bring you a special West Coast edition of the Bonechilly blog. Westsiiiiide!

The trip up here was jam-packed full of fun. The audiobook of "The King of Torts" that John gave me 6 months ago kept me company on the long drive to Boise to hang out with my dad for a day or two. The one casualty of the trip was my iPod. The damn thing went tits-up just as I got into Boise and hasn't turned on since. On the plane ride from Boise to Seattle, I was placed in the middle of some fun folks. First of all, to my direct right, in the aisle seat, we had Jim. Jim was a nice man who happened to have a little bit of a weight problem. This fella was so big he needed an extra seatbelt to get his gut strapped in. The only thing that comes in larger sizes than this guy's belt is equaters. PLUS, his snoring was so loud that he would wake himself up every 10-15 seconds of the flight...the WHOLE FLIGHT! Needless to say, the fight for the arm rest was over before I made it to my seat because his gut decided it would be a good place to rest for the duration of the flight. Jim also found a good armpit rest in the form of MY SHOULDER. Let's say it all together, folks..."CRIPES!"

To my direct left was a nameless lady. She was dressed in a long black trench coat and used her long blonde hair to hide the ear buds of her iPod so she wouldn't have to turn off and stow it during lift-off. What a rebel this one was. I actually caught her doing the "middle-aged woman nod and bob" from her seat and I think I could hear "Tainted Love" coming from her headphones. In the row in front of me sat a dead ringer for Robert Goulet...I would have thought it was him, but a man like Goules wouldn't fly economy...So I figured it was probably his brother Gary Goulet.

With this crazy band of fellow passengers, I was convinced that I had some wicked sweet kharma (or whatever) rolling my way reeeaal soon. I assumed that I would be rewarded by a peaceful trip home next to a cute little 20 year old co-ed. Well, I was apparently setting my sights way too low. The man upstairs had bigger plans for me this week. More on that later.

The real reason I went to the coast was to watch the Seahawks kick some Carolina tail in the NFC Championship. The crowd "12th man" was electric and deafening to say the least. Watching Paul Allen raise the 12th man flag before kickoff, you could tell that the entire city worships this man and what he has done for their football team. Got to see Carrie Underwood sing the national anthem, which was very cool. That girl can sing. All in all a very awesome experience. Go Hawks!

After the game, I got to spend a couple days in Seattle on my own. I didn't venture out too far the first day. Mostly because my Uncle had a SECOND digital cable box downstairs outside my room with ALL of the movie channels. This was more of a sight than the damn Space Needle for this broke, unemployed couch potato. The second day was a little different. I actually did some exploring around town. I went to a local shopping center as well as back down to Qwest Field to pick up some championship merch. Somehow, along the way I misplaced the key to my Uncles house. That kinda freaked me out because I had no way to get into the house at this point. SOOO, after running around town for a second time, I still couldn't find the key. After a call to my Uncle, I was informed of a hidden key somewhere on the property. WHEEWW! Ok, now I'm back inside but that doesn't change the fact that I lost the extra key. After going online, I found out that there was a little key making hut back at the original shopping center that I was hanging out in earlier that day. Got the key made and headed back to the car.

Is anyone still waiting for my wicked awesome kharma to come back and kick me in the face? Well, no more waiting. On the way back to the car, I run into the MAN! For the Dane Cook fans, I ran into the BAMF of all BAMFs. Dave FREAKIN' Matthews! It's all kind of a blur right now. But I did get a sweet picture out of the deal.

The plane ride back was very peaceful because there was only about 20 people riding that night. You could not imagine how important you can feel on a plane when you have a full 3 seats to yourself, a FULL can of soda, 4 bags of snack mix, and vouchers for free dinners. The only thing that would have made it better would have been an working iPod.

Alright let's go to the big board for the final tallys:
Plane trip to Seattle..................................$0
Ticket to NFC Championship.....................$0
Rental Car for 2 days in Seattle................$0
Eating like a King for a week.....................$0
Randomly meeting Dave Matthews...........Friggin' Sweet! (Expecting something else?)

I'm too hap-hap-happy to give a bap-bap-bappy.

More to Come.

P.S. This blog is late only because I wrote one last week but it erased on me and I was too lazy to write it again.

Yes, I am now in what I like to call, the "real world". Finals are completed and I am finally an MSU alum. Good feeling.

So last night, I go out to celebrate be playing a little poker with the boys from work. It's a fun little $5 buy in game. By the way, I played one game last night for 5 and a half freakin hours and only took 3rd. Cripes. Anyway, I wanted to tell you about this fella that showed up at our game. Now, the house we play at is MAYBE a half mile from campus, and he shows up in a UM Grizzly sweatshirt! He seemed like a pretty nice fella, so I shook his hand and told him nicely that his buy in was $10 until he took the sweatshirt off. Well, he didn't and he paid $5 anyway, cuz he was bigger than me and he had a dip in (which can be quite intimidating). Long story short, turns out he is a big Grizzly fan, but not a student at the university. He is a plumbing aprentice. I thought that was a fitting job for a UM fan since watching a game from Washington Grizzly Stadium's booster section is probably very similar to being elbow deep in human waste all day. "The best thing about being an apprentice," he says, "is you get to EARN while you LEARN." I think the best part of being an apprentice is that you get to learn how to rhyme. Come to think of it, rhyming might actually be a Junior level course in Missoula. Sounds like this guy's got it MADE in the SHADE. Oh Cripes, now he's got me doing it.

Bap of the Day goes to anyone involved with the hype around "Brokeback Mountain". As Cartman says, "Independent movies are all about gay cowboys eating pudding." Well, little Eric, they've gone mainstream. Let me explain...the writers of this movie depict two cowboys who have a wild love affair. They could have written it about two gay fellas in the city, or at the Britney Spears concert, or the flea market or something, but they had to make it two cowboys. Why cowboys? To create a buzz. All I hear at work on the AM radio is fellas like Rush and O'Reilly and Hannity complaining about this gay cowboy movie. Fellas, do you think you're stopping people from going by talking about it for hours everyday? NO, you're creating a buzz which will entice more people to go. The people who debate against it the most are the people creating the curiosity which will, in turn, create more revenue for gay cowboy sequels. I, myself, will not be watching Brokeback Mountain...ever. Not because I am a hate monger. Quite the contrary. I have no problem with homosexuals. I'm just not a big fan of westerns.

More to Come.

Happy Halloween, folks. Welcome to my special October 31st blooooog. A blooooog is like a blog, but with a scarier name.

For a little Halloween fun this year, I went to see the movie "Saw 2". I hadn't seen the first one, but the sequel was quite good, nonetheless. It is one thrilling.....thriller. One complaint I have about the movie is it's title. It may seem harmless at first, but let me explain the inevitable danger hiding in the title of this movie. Imagine with me, a teenage kid talking on the phone with a buddy of his after watching this movie. Odds are, the friend on the phone will say something to the effect of, "I watched 'Saw 2' this weekend". Then the teenage boy will reply by saying,"I saw 'Saw 2' too!" Now, if this kid's parents are anywhere near him at the time, they would have to enroll him in speech threapy classes because they would think the kid has developed a stutter from watching those damn scary movies. Just a thought.

Alright, so I was watching 'Extreme Makeover: Home Edition' this weekend and I realized that my life isn't nearly crappy enough to get a free house from a TV show. If I'm gonna get a free house from those guys, I'm gonna need to find a parapalegic, diabetic, widowed mother of 12 living in a tool shed to hook up with...and soon.

Bap or treat: In Bozeman, the police force uses Chevy Impalas for their squad cars. Bap of the day goes to anyone in Bozeman who is not a cop, but owns an Impala anyway. The good folks of Bozeman have spent years perfecting the art of detecting Impala headlights. You are slowing them down for no reason!

**Bap of the month goes to people who own Impalas with ski/bike racks on top. I hate you more than I hate hippies and Texas...combined!

More to Come.

There are only 2 things I know for sure at the moment. First, I need to write a new blog...like, in a bad way. I need a new blog more than Michael Jackson needs love advise from a Catholic priest. Over the line? Maybe. Speaking of over the line, the second thing I know is that Motley Crue puts on a horrible live show. Their sound man must have been some dude they picked up at a Holiday Inn Express the night earlier, because he didn't do the group justice at all. Also, I have never seen a rock group take a 10 minute break halfway through their headlining set. Talk about the opposite of rock-n-roll. The buckets of fake blood that they poured on the first few rows at the end of the night was just a capstone for the night of pitiful attempts to recapture the youth of 4 middle-aged rockers. The theme of the night was DESPIRATION. These guys threw out all the stops including dancing girls, midgets, roadies with clown masks, rediculous videos on the big screen, and advertising an upcoming claymation movie during their 10 minute break. It was sad, very sad.

On to happier stories...I have digital cable now! Oh, the possibilites of crap to watch now. There is actually a channel that only plays old episodes of Nickelodeon game shows like Double Dare, GUTS, and Legends of the Hidden Temple. Needless to say, I watch the Double Dare Slopstical Course every chance I get. "If you can grab that flag in 60 seconds or less, tell them what they'll win, Harvey!"
Another channel that I now have, I actually like to refer to as the "Miracle Channel". No, it's not a religious channel or anything, it is an MTV channel that only plays MUSIC VIDEOS! What a concept, eh fellas? They had to make MTV, MTV2, and finally MTV HITS before they finally figured out that we want to watch music when we watch MUSIC television. Needless to say I've been as happy as a pig in scat since the cable man stopped by last month.

Bap of the day goes to the newest Anderson. It's a tough world out there, dude. You're gonna have to accept the fact that you might get bapped for no particular reason sometimes.

More to Come.

For those of you keeping score at home, here's where everything stands at the moment...I just moved into a new apartment right next to campus with Cory and Junior. Had to leave the McCompound because all the other roomies were moving on to bigger and better things...well at least 2/3 were moving on to bigger and better (Levi went to Red Lodge). That would leave John and Ingrid and their trek to the coast so Johnny can rest his voice and experience "working for the man" for a while. I'm not sure if he has decided on McDonalds drive-thru attendant, baggage handler, or casino attendant. Either way, I'm sure there will be some angry, but inciteful music coming out of the whole experience.

At this time I need to give a shout-out to the MSU football team who beat the Million Dollar Men (or are they the Stone Cold Stunners) of Steve Austin University this weekend. A 42-6 score is a fitting way to snap a 4 game losing streak I'd say.

Hope to see y'all at the Keith Urban concert tomorrow night. YEEEEHAAAAAAW!

Bap of the Day goes to the Utah Jazz. No reason for it, I just never really liked them. I now wish they would have stayed in New Orleans a little longer so I wouldn't have to hear that name ever again.

More to Come.

Holy Cripes! Congrats to all of you for surviving my annual end-of-summer writer's block. I don't really know what I'm going to say yet, but I'm pretty sure I should try. I mean, honestly...this is getting pretty rediculous.

Where have I been? I've been at work. Work is just blowing my mind right now...well, not really. Drop the "my mind" and you'll be a little closer. I've gotten to the point where caffeine is keeping me going during the day. My buddy Scott and I always down a Mountain Dew in the mornings to wake up. It is our "Morning Dew" (cute huh? Just wait, it gets better). In the afternoons, we need another Mountain Dew to get us going again. We call it our "Afternoon Dew-light" (I told you it got better). Anyfreakinway, work sucks, as always. But I did just get a killer raise.

Here's one for the random thought file. I have never been to Texas, nor have I knowingly had prolonged contact with anyone who is a Texas native. That being said, for some dang reason, I hate Texas and everything it encompasses. It might be their stupid accents or their cocky, holier-than-thou attitude...or maybe it has something to do with a "W". Who knows. All I can say is that Texas had better not run into me in a dark alley.

Bap of the Day goes to Texas. You suck.

More to Come.

Today, as I pondered my life as a whole, I realized that a lot has changed in the world since I was born back in '83. Yes, they were different times back then. For example, back in '83 theaters were full of eager basement dwellers in angst to see the final installment of Star Wars. Heck, back then a bunch of famous musicians got together in order to aid Africa's poverty and hunger problems. Yes siree, I can't believe how life back then would have been with a fella by the name of George Bush holding a very high office. Oh yah, and the family situation. My brother and I were living under the same roof back then. Oh how the times have changed...

This week I decided to check out "The Facebook". It is an online service, kinda like Myspace, that is open only to college students. I was blown away by the amount of people on that thing. So many people I haven't seen since high school. Now, before I make this sound like an infomercial...but wait there's more, act now and you will recieve friend requests from people you have never really talked to but spent 4 years in high school with...sorry, bout that. But seriously, isn't it ironic that you can be around someone for four years, not talk to them, and they want to be your friend online 4 years later. No, seriously, I'm asking if it is ironic. Ever since Alanis came out with that song 10 years ago, my perception of irony has gotten a little skewed. That album also skewed my perception of Dave Coulier. All I'm going to say is, if Dave invites you to go to a movie, popcorn isn't the only thing he will expect from you. Best not go to Vegas with him either, but that's a totally different story.

Which reminds me. Our old buddy Levi headed down to Phoenix this week to put the finishing touches on the new Clintons album. I'm not going to lie. I miss the little guy. The basement is just too quiet without him.

I'm sorry...I'm gonna have to interrupt this tribute to Levi becuase I just saw MacGyver save a guy who was dying of cyanide poisoning by making him drink chemicals used to develop photographs. That crazy MacGyver!

Bap of the Day: This goes out to anyone who skipped out on the Fairview trip this year. Ya'll are gonna miss one killer time. Word.

More to Come.